Hope
by and it feels like finally
Summary: And it felt like finally, it really did. So I used up all the hope that was left. -Viola waiting for Todd to come back.


hi, so this is my attempt at a chaos walking fanfiction, and whilst it was written in the middle of the night on my ipod, I hope it's not too bad. I haven't read the series in a long time, so I apologise for any canonical inaccuracies. please review! :)

* * *

It was only days ago, when we were on that beach. Days ago when there was that eternal instant of looking into his eyes which were still screaming as his noise fell silent and-  
And now he's here being healed by the spackle and I can hear his noise sometimes but it's not the same as before. Nothing is.

I remember when I first got to know him. When he first made me smile after realising that he wasn't dangerous, not really, and maybe I could actually use that hope my mother gave me-  
And his noise.  
It was just so _Todd  
_All confused and messed up and a jumble of words and thoughts and hope.  
And I could read him.  
Then after Aaron and Davy and Mistress Coyle I finally saw him and could read him again.  
And he learnt how to make it quiet.  
(he was a _man_ now, and he wasn't quite Todd Hewitt from Prentiss Town any more)  
He started being able to properly control it, like the Mayor.  
And it scared me like hell.  
But he was still Todd.  
Todd who thought that the noise would kill me because he didn't know the truth yet. Todd who couldn't read the words in his Mother's book because he didn't know how. Todd who sacrificed Manchee to save me from Aaron and ran away with me from the idea of an army, ran all the way here.  
And the hope I took from my mother, the hope I didn't want to take because hope was so stupidly terrifying-  
He made me see that I needed it.  
(but I didn't want it)  
Because on the beach when the Mayor walked into the water and the snow kept falling and we'd reached the ocean-  
It was perfect.  
And it felt like finally, it really did.  
So I used up all the hope that was left.  
(which wasn't much, because I really did need it before)  
And I thought for a moment-  
I actually dared to think-  
That everything was going to be okay.

But now I'm here and he's lying on the spackle-made bed and he's not moving enough to be alive (he is though, he's coming back). His noise is becoming so different (though it's a good different, I suppose, like Ben's) and he's not going to just be Todd when he wakes up because he has the spackle in his head and we're always going to be Todd-and-Viola because I ain't never gonna let him leave me (he's even got me talking funny), not when he wakes up.

I continue reading his Ma's book to him as he heals. The book he kept with him from the day he first came across me in the swamp back in old Prentisstown. I don't know whether he can hear me, but I can only hope. Maybe it will help bring him back.

I've been doing an awful lot of hoping, lately. It may be terrifying, but it's a whole lot better than not thinking anything at all. And so many people on the convoy that's due to land so, so soon will be hoping for a brilliant new world. I may not be able to give them that, but I can try my best to make them think they've used their hope up well.

Part of me thinks that we may have been able to help the Mayor. Make him see without all the destruction and hate that blinded his mind. The cure for the bands was real, after all (and my arm is slowly healing, thanks to it). But then again, would we have wanted to? After all that sick, twisted man had put us through. I don't think anyone could have that much hope. Not enough.

A hint of his old Prentisstown noise can be heard from where Todd lies.

I guess he's dreaming about it again. He's doing that more often, now, especially when I read to him his mother's words.

"Viola, come on, we have to go meet with Wilf and the others, about what to do with the weapons" Ben's noise says to me. I nod and put the book down where I was sitting, remembering what part I was up to. With one glance back at the not-quite-alive-yet Todd I see 1017, sitting there still. He hasn't moved since Todd got here; I think he has even more hope than the rest of us.


End file.
